“Nowhere. Buried,” answered the child.
“Where did you bury her? In the garden?”
“No. The garden wouldn’t be nowhere!”
“Where, then?”
“Nowhere. I threw her out of the window.”
“Into the street?”
“Yes. She did fell on a horse’s back, and he jumped. I was sorry.”
“It didn’t hurt him. I hope it didn’t hurt dolly!”
The moment he said it, Clare’s heart reproached him: he was not talking true! he was not talking out of his real heart to the child! Almost with indignation she answered:—
“Things don’t be hurt! Dolly was a thing! She’s no thing now!”